


Through Broken Funhouse Mirrors

by Julorean



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, M/M, a bunch of cameos for added spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7901656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julorean/pseuds/Julorean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky get the Avengers out of the Raft. Somewhere along the way, reality goes sideways, and Steve, Bucky, and Clint end up in a world that is disturbingly familiar, but more fantastical than their own: Earth-616. Getting back seems easy enough – but in the meantime, the super-soldiers will have to deal with the emotions brought on by their reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Broken Funhouse Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Just about squeaked by with this! Feeling pretty proud I finished this with everything going on. This story has a bunch of cameos, internet cookies if you spot 'em. There's also a reference to another of Jeremy Renner's movies, keep an eye out for that. XD
> 
> And [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7897051) is the adorable art created by TrishArgh!

It was a dark and stormy night.

Steve was well aware of the cliché, but it was. And many of his missions had started with dark or stormy nights. It would make extraction slightly more complicated, but between King T'Challa's technologically advanced jet and two of his own personal bodyguards that he had offered to aid their mission, it was workable. He'd faced narrower odds.

Jumping over an exploding chasm of fire came to mind.

He turned to the man beside him, that featured both in that memory and now followed in his present. "Buck, you sure you wanna come on this one? If...we don't need Ross getting his hands on you. Again."

He offered a little smile. "Between you and the Dora Milaje, I think I'm covered. Not leaving you behind again. Ever."

A selfish little sensation squirmed in pleasure in the back of Steve's mind. Maybe...just maybe, once this was over, and their friends were safe, he could let himself think about that a little more.

It felt odd to still wear the star. But T'Challa had insisted on some light armor, at the very least, earning an approving nod from Bucky. "Should all go well, it will not be needed. But plans rarely go as smoothly as we like. Do endeavor to not get grievously injured."

The outfit was all black, with a five-pointed star outlined in charcoal. It felt...almost right. After everything, his heart felt heavy and dark. But Bucky was alive, and fighting next to him. It could only get better from there.

He hoped.

 

All things considered, the jailbreak went quite smoothly. Skill and luck got them just two levels away from the exit before the alarms went off. Nice.

Natasha had also materialized not long after the escape from Siberia. He’d seen the look on her face often enough on his own, it would brook no argument, she was going to help rescue Clint and the others.

With Steve and Bucky forcing their way out, and the others keeping the way clear, they made it handily to the roof hatch.

Light flashed among the waves.

A jagged tear opened in the air to the side of them as they ran for the jet. Lightning poured out, crawling across the ground, spider-webbing out across the metal surface. Clint shoved Wanda ahead of him.

"Go! We'll catch up!"

Somehow they weren't all immediately electrocuted by the lightning. Then the crawling, worm-like sparks seemed to find what they were looking for, and arrowed from the portal or explosion or whatever it was and washed over the lagging trio.

When the flash faded, Steve, Bucky, and Clint were gone.

Natasha hardly paused once all visible allies were on board.

"We have to go back!" Sam yelled as the aircraft peeled away from the oceanic prison, lashing rain hardly giving it pause.

Scott looked at him dubiously. "I dunno, looks like they vanished pretty thoroughly. And I'd rather not go back to a cell, thanks."

Natasha nodded. "He’s right."

Scott looked overjoyed that the Black Widow was agreeing with him.

"All the sensors indicate that they are gone. Not captured, or in the water. But it’s like they are simply not here anymore."

Wanda, who hadn't stopped shaking even after the removal of the inhibiting collar, stilled. "She is right. They….they are gone...I can't feel them anymore. But that light...I think it felt...like they went somewhere else."

 

**_SOMEWHERE ELSE_ **

Steve tensed as the blinding light faded, ready for an attack. He wasn't at the Raft anymore, that was for sure. No rain or wind, and the space felt enclosed. A fairly large space, but they were definitely inside some sort of structure.

Inside what, that was the question.

He blinked furiously, maintaining his grip on Bucky's arm. At least whatever brought them here, he'd held on to Bucky. That was all that mattered.

He'd barely regain his vision when Bucky shook off his grip and _moved_. The air was dusty and their surroundings strewn with debris, but clearly Bucky had seen something he didn't like.

 

The hazy air obscured a blur of dark blue. Bucky leapt at the figure, tacking him into the nearest pile of debris.

"No, no, NO!" was faintly heard among the now multicolored blue and black tangle of struggling limbs, "they said you were dead, how fucking DARE YOU wear that shield, I'm not going back, I WON'T!" the last words were screamed.

"Uh, last I recall Winter Soldier wasn't on this mission, the fuck he come from?" a half-familiar voice said, some distance away. Squinting through the disorientation and aerosolized concrete, Steve could make out a purple chevron on a field of black.

A flash of silver, and the figure in blue took a glancing blow on the jaw, but it was enough to rattle him.

"Bucky, stop!" said two voices, nearly harmonized.

He stilled, keeping the other Captain America immobilized.

Steve took in the tableau: archer in purple and black...and another one in black and even darker purple, looking substantially more disgruntled, both with bows drawn. An unmarred shield shone dully some feet away from Bucky and the imposter he was grappling.

"Well shit," said the other archer. "Don't tell me we've got a case of the doppelgangers. It better not be Skrulls again."

“The fuck are Skrulls?” Clint said, incredulous. “The fuck is this place? I retire for five damn minutes and everything goes to hell, and I end up in supervillian jail, I _escape_ from supervillian jail, and now this,” he continued to mutter angrily. “I am going to punch Tony Stark _in the face_ if I ever see him again.”

"Can I ask why?" said his counterpart. "Not that I don't agree with you, Tony's done plenty that he deserves to be punched for, some of it only last Wednesday, but if you're versions of us, then what happened?"

Clint gave him a murderous stare. He blanched. "Okay, wow, I can only dream of looking that scary, damn."

By this time, Bucky had rendered the Captain America mostly unconscious.

"Could you maybe ask your Bucky to maybe let go of our Cap?" said Hawkeye. "We kinda need him to lead the Avengers and all."

"What's his name, then," Bucky asked flatly.

"Wah? Steve, Steve Rogers, everyone knows that."

Bucky reluctantly released him.

"Looks like not everything's the same though," Steve said. He took a closer look at his counterpart. The resemblance was disconcerting, especially framed with the patriotic colors.

Not that he had any claim to them anymore.

"Different face, huh?"

"Yeah. One that looked a lot like one of his main...handlers."

"Ooooo. I've heard a bit about what Buckster did to them. Guess we should all be glad that Cap's a super-soldier. How Bucky here managed to knock him out though, you'll have to explain."

“I’m gonna have to call parallel universe here,” Clint said. “What?” he replied at the puzzled looks he got. “I read sci-fi. Was more like science-fact sometimes, Steve, remember the killer robots, huh? It wasn’t that fucking long ago.”

“Well. I did get to watch some Star Trek,” Steve admitted.

“Excellent choice.”

 

Having completed their mission of destroying his particular AIM base, they took the displaced dimensional travelers back to their waiting Quinjet.

“AIM? They’re sort of a mad science evil organization. They’ve messed around with portals and energy shit before,” Hawkeye explained. “And I am really glad no Skrulls are involved. Awesome. That's always a fucking hassle to sort out. Trans-dimensional stragglers, that's pretty easy, innit, Cap?" he nudged the other hero. "Just get Mr. Fantastic to sort that shit out. He peeps in to other universes for fun."

Steve studies the other's profile. Now that Bucky wasn't trying to beat it into pulp (and didn't _that_ bring back painful memories), the unsettling resemblance remained unsettling. Strong jawline, naturally. Lighter hair, more blonde than his own more sandy color. The other Captain America (really, the only one in this jet, Steve thought, he left the shield behind, he was _done_ with it) did look quite a lot like a much younger Alexander Pierce.

Bucky remembered the victims, he'd definitely remember the one that had pointed him towards them. He certainly would've met Pierce when he was younger...and maybe Pierce's superiors, the leaders of HYDRA at the time did it on purpose, why not take advantage of any remaining echoes of memory of the blonde man that he had followed, and would always follow.

Bucky sat sullenly near the rear of the jet. Steve settled next to him. "Hey."

Finally, he looked at him. "We got them out. T'Challa will help them, whatever happened to us. We'll figure it out." Steve offered a tiny little smile. "I guess in the meantime, maybe we can relax just a little. I don't think we're internationally wanted fugitives here, at least. I bet we can con a shower outta somebody."

Bucky exhaled a quiet little chuckle, hardly moving at all. "That would be nice. A hot shower. Or god, even a bath."

Hawkeye piped up. "I will totally make sure Tony does exactly that. It'll be fun to see his brain deal with two Caps."

Steve’s mind rebelled at the title, but he was too tired to argue.

 

In just a few hours they arrived back at the Avengers headquarters, a skyscraper not far from where Tony had built his. Yet another disorienting little difference. A few more minutes brought them to a large conference room. Looks like the Captain had called ahead for a team meeting.

“Huh, would ya look at that,” said the dark-haired man with a goatee that had already been waiting in the room. His eyes were blue, and he was taller (a lot taller, oddly enough), but it couldn’t be anyone else but Tony Stark. “TWO Caps!”

“With me here, don’t we always have two Caps?” chimed in a woman in red and blue with a yellow star on the front of her uniform.

“Pretty sure you were promoted a while ago,” said a large and exceedingly strong-looking green woman that somehow reminded Steve of Bruce. “ _Colonel_ Carol Danvers.”

“Are we counting former Captains as well?” chimed in a man with short brown hair who could only be Bucky’s counterpart, going by the metal forearm.

"Don't...don't call me that," Steve said quietly. "I'm done with that.”

Hawkeye hesitated. "Well, I wasn't gonna say anything, but since you brought it up...where *is* your shield? Got a Sam Wilson to hold on to it for ya? Ours pulls part-time duty as Captain America."

Steve looked at him quizzically. "What? Sam? Falcon? No, he doesn't have it." He thought about it for a second. "Though if anyone else was going to be Captain America instead of me, it should be him. No, I last saw it in Siberia, but I assume Tony picked it up. Tony Stark, that is. He's Iron Man where we come from, too."

Bucky spoke up. "Steve here beat him up, and left the shield as a consolation prize as we both got out of there as fast as we could."

"What." Cap said flatly.

Hawkeye snorted. "Oh, like that's any better than the whole SHRA thing? It wasn't THAT long ago, Cap."

The Captain promptly shut his mouth.

Steve set his jaw. "I'm done with it. I've had enough. I won't stand by if I'm truly needed, but for once in my fucking life after _this_ happened," he waved a hand over his body, "I'm going to be a little selfish. Let Tony handle his own messes."

Hawkeye looked surprised. Steve looked past him to look at Clint, who was hiding comfortably in a more shadowy corner, but had a small smile on his face, and gave Steve a nod. "You gotta draw the line somewhere," he finally said. "Or there's not gonna be anything left of ya. How do you think I stayed sane? I always had somewhere to go back to. Though in typical Steve fashion, when he does it, there's explosions. And possibly toppling of governments."

"Yeah, it went kinda like that the first time he rescued me," Bucky muttered.

“Oh?” Carol said.

Bucky looked at her, clearly reluctant to discuss his history. But he couldn’t really argue with Captain - Colonel, really - Sparklefists. Share some personal information, maybe gain some trust.

But this was something he actually remembered, painful as it was.

"My unit was captured in Austria. Those of us that weren’t vaporized by HYDRA's guns. The rest of us were used as slave labor in one of their munitions factories. It wasn't just us there, they’d pulled from all over the front, with French Resistance fighters and British forces too."

"Then there was the day I was taken to Zola's lab."

Cap frowned at the name. Steve noticed. "He's very much dead in our universe," he told him.

"Wish we were as lucky," Cap muttered.

"So. cue pain and torture. Experiments and injections. Must've been evening, it was dark and that little rat must've been done for the day...and then this one," he jerked a thumb at Steve, "appears in the middle of it all. Figured I was hallucinating, or dying, but I don't think I could come up with that get-up he was wearing even in my wildest dreams. But of course, along the way he'd freed everyone else, and they were in fine form, blasting their way out. Red Skull self-destructs the base, and somehow Steve and I walk out, with some 400 odd men behind us. That idiot needed a sergeant, so between me and some others, we somehow managed to get everyone past the border and back to camp."

"Huh," said James. "I was...about 16 when I first met Steve. I was never officially in the Army. My dad was, and after he died, the camp just kinda...adopted me."

“That…sounds kinda terrible,” Steve said. “I can hardly remember a time when I didn’t know Bucky. We grew up together.”

James made a thoughtful noise.

“After that, he the Commandos got together and proceeded to royally fuck up HYDRA,” Bucky concluded.

“The Commandos?”

“Yeah, they called us the Howling Commandos. After Dum-Dum’s singing, I always said, but they probably meant like wolves or something.”

“Huh. That’s…hmm.”

“What, you didn’t have a team?”

“We did, but the Commandos were Fury’s old team. Ours had a stuck-up Atleantean prince and a guy that could turn into fire,” James said.

Silence. “Well, the fire guy could’ve been useful, but Dernier’s talent for explosives had much the same effect, I think, while being somewhat more stealthy.”

“But seriously…it was _really_ just you? You were the only super-powered hero back then?” Tony said incredulously.

Steve shrugged. “Yeah.”

Bucky gave a cynical smirk. “Well, there was me, but that didn’t come to light until fairly recently.”

“What,” said James flatly.

“Zola had been working on replicating the serum. Whatever he did, let Bucky survive the fall. I had to…had to fight him when they sent the Winter Soldier after me…hardest I’d ever fought. But…he remembered. He stopped.” Steve looked at Bucky, eyes soft. “He rescued me when I fell off the crashing helicarrier and into a river.”

“Been spending the last couple years remembering, fighting my way back to being someone.”

“That…sounds a lot more manageable than having everything dumped back in your head by a magic cube,” James noted.

Steve blinked at them. “Is…is that something that happens?”

“Yeah, every so often another Cosmic Cube pops up, people come back from the dead, villains wreak some havoc, Avengers save the day,” Hawkeye shrugged.

“It’s a lot like a magic lamp,” said the green strong-woman, who had introduced herself as Jennifer, a.k.a. She-Hulk. “Gotta be careful what you wish for.”

“Right now I’d wish for some lunch,” grumbled Bucky.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Carol said. “We’ve got enough people with enhanced metabolisms on the team that we’ve always got something available. Unless you wanna order out?”

“Whatever you have is fine. We’ve both eaten worse,” Bucky said.

“Are we done with the interrogation though?” asked Steve. “Is everybody satisfied that we’re not evil aliens?”

Stark looked surprised, but nodded. “Yeah. I’ll call Reed, get things set up, hope we can get you home before too long.”

 

The day had hardly ended when a call from SHIELD came through. To him specifically. Guess heroes gossiped as much as secret agents did. He’d been doing some reading, and this SHIELD was free and clear of HYDRA, as far as he could tell. Seems like HYDRA hadn’t bothered to infiltrate it and created their own modern offshoots instead, like AIM.

And now the SHIELD in this universe was politely but firmly requesting his presence, given his former affiliation with them in his own world.

Clint felt reluctant to separate from his dimensional compatriots. Brand new location that was deceptively familiar, with equally (un)familiar allies.

Having a Black Widow in this universe did go pretty far in settling his instincts. If Cap was a constant, then Natasha was too. If she said these Avengers, and even their SHIELD was okay, well, he could at least give them the benefit of the doubt.

And it couldn't hurt for those two crazy kids to have some time for themselves. They'd all been going non-stop for god only knows how long. And the looks they gave each other...yeah, give them some time to just be. They’d found each other, and right now didn’t have the distraction of being fugitives either. Maybe he'd knock their heads together if they didn't make any progress by the time they got back to their own world.

Speaking of knocking some heads, maybe he’d get to do more of that here. The few times he’d been an instructor had been pretty fun. If they wanted him to tour their local SHIELD HQ, well, he may as well oblige.

Apparently their first stop was the range.

"What, you gonna try me to see if I really am a Hawkeye?" he said, facing his guide as he let loose an arrow. It split the one already in the bullsye neatly down the middle.

The report of gunshots stopped as everyone gawked.

Oh, right, his...counterpart in this world had little reason to be in SHIELD. Probably could have been if things had gone a different way, as far as he could tell from the dossier he'd read.

He picked up a pistol next...oookay, and that got him more looks. "Seriously, is the bow _all_ he uses? That’s dumb."

"The hell is Hawkeye doing here?" an exceedingly familiar voice said behind him. Clint twitched, though of course the shot hit true.

"Fury???" he blurted as he turned.

"Yeah?" he answered with the exact same degree of exasperation, but it was coming from a face much younger than expected. And it was frowning. "You're not Barton."

"Well, I'm _a_ Hawkeye. Cross-dimensional mishap, apparently. Seems like you get quite a few of those."

"Don't I fucking know it. I let the super scientists deal with that shit."

"Anyway, to answer your question, I was retired, but Captain America needed my help, and here we are. A parallel universe where I'm apparently a dumbass as well as a superhero."

Fury snorted. "Can't argue with that. What's with your face?"

"Hey, I know a Nick Fury back in my world, looks pretty much exactly like you, except with at least 30 more years on. He ran SHIELD before Steve burned it to the ground. Then he faked his death, and sometimes lurks in my barn."

"Might do that myself, if I live long enough."

"Ha, I'm losing count of the times he's faked his death now."

Fury studied the pile of perforated targets. "Wanna go educate some trainees before the tales of your feats on the range make the rounds?"

Clint grinned. "I was hoping to. Hardly anyone sparred with me anymore, they all knew my reputation. Well, except the ones looking for something to prove."

"We got plenty of those here," Fury smirked. "Come on, show me what you can do."

Clint's assigned escort trailed helplessly behind them. Beating up baby SHIELD agents was probably not on the original agenda. And when a Fury got involved…all bets were off.

It really was a stroke of pure luck that he had his own weapons with him. Oh, he could improvise with pretty much anything. They still talked about the time he brought down a mafiya don and his bodyguards with a pizza and a cupful of pens.

This SHIELD base was laid out pretty much the same as most others he'd been in. Industrial metal hallways, aaand there was a gym. Perhaps word truly did travel that fast, but there was already a group gathered, both to watch and to challenge.

Apparently the Hawkeye here had been trained by their Captain America. He spared a fond thought for the last time he'd knocked Steve to the floor. Which, okay, it had been a while, but it had been pretty satisfying teaching him about the advances in hand to hand combat since the 1940s. And equally tiring to watch him do all those spinny flippy kicks and shit. The fancy stuff was for younger men and super soldiers. His missions always involved taking them down in the quickest and most efficient way possible.

"Oh man, you all waiting for me? Don't all volunteer at once." He grinned at them.

Some of them looked perturbed. Well, perhaps the smile was a bit much after coming in with his resting face. Geez, it’s like these agents had never seen an assassin before. All the better to throw them off their game. He didn't quite have as many charms as Natasha (though there was that one memorable mission where he seduced the Russian billionaire and then escaped with the yacht. Coulson’s face had been priceless when he showed up back in the marina with the multi-million dollar boat).

 

Agent Thompson - who had long ago given on pretending he had any say in what a Hawkeye would do, and that went double, no triple, if accompanied by a Fury - startled when his communicator blared at him.

Clint quirked a brow. "You in trouble?"

He frowned. "Ummm. Director Hill is on her way. She wants to speak with you."

A silent wave of "ooooooo, someone's in trouble" rippled through the spectating agents.

Apparently speed of text ran slow, as Hill almost immediately materialized in the doorway.

"Agent Barton. Come with me."

It had been a while since he'd been called that, but it certainly wasn't long enough to overrule instincts ingrained by almost two decades with SHIELD.

"Yes'm." He looked back and gave a saucy grin and wave to the observers. "Guess she thought me beating up all her agents was making her look bad."

It was a surprisingly quick trip to her office. A few more spots along the way for biometrics, of course, but unlike the Triskelion, hers was on a middle level. Or maybe it was a secondary office. Fury had one of those, when he'd gotten tired of Hawkeye showing up. It hadn't taken very long for Clint to find that one too, but he only dropped in on that one when absolutely necessary.

She circled silently behind her desk.

"Agent Barton. Your display with those agents was quite entertaining. You got one over on Agent Sarya, and she's one of my best instructors. Care to tell me when you were enhanced?" she asked calmly.

A twitch of a muscle in his cheek was the only sign the question had impacted him at all.

"The Avengers kindly shared the data they received from examining the device that brought you here. It appears of its main functions was to home in on enhanced individuals. How it reached across dimensions I’ll leave to the scientists."

Clint stood silently.

Hill smiled. "You're much more patient than the Clint I know. I checked on the camera feed. Of course we have cameras, it's very useful for pointing out errors. But I'm familiar with the abilities of an enhanced human, and you're just a little too fast, and you’re pulling your punches."

Clint chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, you're just like the Hill I know. She might be smarter though, she didn't want to take over what was left of SHIELD, back in our universe." He sobered. "You know how it goes. I get seconded to another agency after a massive clusterfuck and end up in a secret CIA genetic experiment that thinks they can control me. Nothing the scale of the super-soldier serum, of course, but just enough to have an edge. I doubt there's something so mundane here, when you've got aliens and mad scientists everywhere."

She gave a nod of assent. “True enough.”

“I’ve gotten used to hiding it. Didn’t have to try too hard with the Avengers though. With someone like Thor or Cap around, they hardly looked at the arrow guy,” he smirked.

Maria gave him a long, analytical look. “You look quite different. Your personal histories are quite distinct, going beyond a few divergences; but I can also see the overlaps. I like that you actually show your smarts. Clint here is all too used to hiding. It’s refreshing.” She smiled.

 

 

Kate Bishop stared morosely into her raspberry caramel latte. Life was terrible, and even the sugary drink did little for her spirits. She thought it would be fun to see that other Hawkeye versus the SHIELD agents. She’d come round to drop off some shit, just broken pieces from the Young Avengers last robot battle, but then she’d gone round the training rooms and it was too tempting to pass up.

She'd have to face it. That other reality Hawkeye was smoking hot, and she had a crush. Gawd, he was *married*, he had kids! Hawkdad, she giggled a little to herself.

But those arms. That black uniform. The way he mopped the floor with those SHIELD trainees. With some of the SHIELD _trainers_ too! Where was that when they’d been dealing with the tracksuit mafia in Brooklyn, she wanted to know.

Not to sell her Clint short, he could be pretty badass too. Kept up with plenty of super-powered Avengers. But that Barton had this sharper edge to him. Must be from all those years of secret agenting. Years of missions, taking what was most dangerous about him and honing it.

It was unspeakably hot.

And even if he has started out like her Clint, he must've gotten himself together well enough. He was married, after all. Sure, Clint and Bobbi had been a thing, but so far all his relationships had petered out.

Must be nice when something went normally for once.

 _Whhhhyyyyy is this my life_ , she muttered silently into the slightly sticky surface of the café table.

Fuck it, she thought, as the memory of how his bow had collapsed into a staff, and he'd proceeded to use it to beat the crap out of those SHIELD agents. Time for a slice of that cake.

When she returned to her table, one of chairs was occupied by a handsome young man with platinum blonde hair.

“Francis,” she greeted. He winced.

“Ughhh, I know going by Hawkeye won’t exactly work, between you and my dad, but if we gotta use first names, can it at least be Frank or something?”

“Kay, Frankie,” she smirked.

“He was right, you _are_ a menace.”

“Look who’s talking!”

“So what’s got you down, Katey-Kate?”

She hmmphed at the nickname, but went on. “Another Hawkeye came around from an alternate universe. Way different from any of ours tho. He’s got kids too, but like in his own time.”

His eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh yeah! I ran into him after Hill grilled him. We went and shot stuff. It was pretty great.”

Kate gave him a look. She should’ve known better than to expect any sympathy from him.

 

Dr. Richards' lab didn't look much more mad sciency than what Steve had seen of Tony's. But the feeling remained...that it was just plain WEIRD. His skin crawled every time he did his stretchy thing.

Space aliens, mad robots, sure. But an elastic man was too much. People shouldn't move like that, no matter what superpowers they had.

He instead focused on Bucky, who raised an eyebrow at him.

 _He creeping you out too, huh?_ the look said. Steve gave him a tiny nod.

"Dr Richards, is it necessary that we stay? I hate sitting around like this. We certainly can't help with any of the dimensional science, but we don't wanna be useless."

"Hmm?" was the absentminded reply. "Oh, of course. You share that tendency with your counterparts," he said with a smile. "With the samples from your clothes, it's a matter of finding the correct resonating dimensional frequency. I have a great deal of experience in these matters, it's only slightly complicated by the fact your home universe is farther afield than I've ever looked. Truly fascinating, the increasing difference between the worlds and the people as one moves farther from _this_ universe..."

He turned back to the computer array.

The lab door opened with a quiet hissing slide.

Maybe it was Hawkeye. Clint had the right idea, giving the info needed to suss out their situation, and then making off to do...something, anything, rather than sit around. He'd heard whispers that they wanted him to do some demonstrations with the SHIELD agents of this universe.

No such luck.

"Ha, looks like I came 'round just in time!" Tony Stark said. "Reed's off to science things, won't resurface unless the city's being attacked, and even that's not necessary a guarantee."

"That seems to happen a lot more than it should," Bucky muttered. At Steve's questioning look, he elaborated. "Been reading the reports. Internet articles. And stuff."

Stark nodded in his direction. "Can't really argue with that."

He shook his head. "Anyway, I figured you might be getting restless. You're still so...Captainy," he noted. "Look pretty different, but...you're still so much the same. A little rougher maybe. Sometimes I think our Cap deserves to be a little more selfish too. He’s done a lot for us, for the world.”

"We probably should keep you confined to the Tower...there it is, our Cap has that exact same look...but anyone even passingly familiar with him could predict he'd break out with the hour. And you've got a Winter Soldier with you, nah, not gonna take that bet. You'd probably be in Jersey before we even realized you were gone."

Tony shook his head.

"Just...take these. It'll track you, but not really more than your average smartphone, and you can call us if needed," he said as he handed off a couple of slim, glass-like rectangles. It was very similar to what the Tony he knew used. "Now go forth, enjoy not being fugitives while you can," he said, making shooing motions.

 

They decided to take the suggestion of New Jersey to heart. A quick talk with Maria Hill and they had the address of a safe house in Jersey City. Not that they were running away, no. There were plenty of heroes to keep the city safe. Even a more grown-up version of that spider-kid from Queens. One of the local tabloids seemed to have a vendetta against him, but his actions more than spoke for him. If the one in their world got even half as good, he had a good future ahead of him.

The city was disconcerting. It had been a drastic change, after walking up from the ice. But he was mostly used to it now. But this New York was like an even weirder reflection. The castle-like burg floating in the Hudson made it even odder. Apparently a different group of super-powered people that called themselves Inhumans lived there, though a few stayed in the city as superheroes.

They looked out across the water to Manhattan. It was more or less familiar, but with a couple new buildings. The place Steve knew as Stark...Avengers? or was it Stark Tower now once again...either way, it wasn't part of the skyline here. It was just....easier...to deal with the displacement when they weren't surrounded by it.

 

So they get to Jersey. And then they promptly got surrounded by robots.

Well, no. They got to the apartment, took a minutes to put away their few spare clothes and other such things, then went out to explore the neighborhood and get something to eat.

They were taking a runabout route back after having some lunch, and THEN robots attacked.

Based off the news and what mission reports he could access, Bucky had been expecting it since they steeped foot on the streets of this New York. But of course it had to be Jersey.

They were actually fairly rough, and not nearly as numerous or sophisticated as Ultron, but they certainly gave Bucky and Steve a workout trying to keep the streets mostly clear and the civilians away from the rampage.

Steve had just started desperately wishing for the shield when a swoop of red and blue knocked away the three mechanoids he'd battling.

"Take that!" she cried as her form stretched and grew, enormous hands sweeping up the last of the 'bots and crushing them into scrap.

"Thanks for getting all the people away!" she smiled at them. "Let's me get straight to the butt-kicking."

"No problem," Bucky said in a gravelly voice.

She peered down at them.

"Ohmigosh!" the young hero cried as she shrank. She had stretchy limbs kinda like Reed, but it was a lot less weird-looking when she did it. "Cap didn't tell me he'd be here!!!"

She stopped as she got a closer look. "Oooo, you're not Cap. Either of 'em." She frowned. "Gotta be transdimensional breakthroughs again, huh?"

Bucky frowned at her.

She made a noise. "ahhh, only the Winter Soldier ever looks that scary..." then she caught sight of the silvery hand. "oh wow, really you too? You gotta tell me everything! Iron Man's always too busy to tell me anything!”

Steve stood a little stunned in the face of her exuberance.

"You must be Ms. Marvel," Bucky rumbled. Steve wondered when he'd had time to look her up (probably on the little glass phone Tony had gifted them). But then, it was only good tactics to know the faces of those they were likely to encounter.

"Yep!" she grinned at them. "I'm an Avenger too. It's like a part-time thing. I still got school."

"Heh, who _isn't_ an Avenger 'round here?" Bucky muttered.

"Hey!" She frowned at him.

Bucky, obviously thinking of how thoroughly she'd smashed the rogue robots, went to explain. "Our world doesn't have so many superheroes as this one. Kind of a trade-off, I guess. We definitely don't have as many apocalypses or invasions happening on a monthly basis."

She hmm'ed and nodded. "We're pretty used to it...but I guess it is pretty crazy when ya actually think about it." She perked as she seemed to recall something. “Hey, I'm gonna meet up with some friends, you guys oughta come!"

"More Junior Avenger type friends?" Steve made a face.

"As a matter of fact, yes. A couple of them are from different universes too! Different ones from yours, though."

Steve and Bucky looked at each other. Not like they often hung out with kids, but...may as well meet fellow universal drifters. What else was there to do in New Jersey anyway?

Though the Indian food they’d tried for lunch had been pretty damn good.

On the way they picked up takeout. Fighting robots built up an appetite, not to mention they’d be feeding several teenagers. Between the three of them, they got the dozen or so bags situated.

"Should be just about enough to feed the four of us, plus a couple of super-soldiers," Kamala chuckled.

"And who would the 'us' be?" Steve inquired.

"I already texted them, they'll be 'round soon....don't ask me how cross-dimensional texting works, Stark and those supergeniusy guys set it up for us," she said at Bucky's quizzical frown.

"Hey Stretchy Armstrong!" called a female voice from the living room.

"Told you!" Kamala said, and went to greet her.

"Uh. We didn't hear the door open," Steve said brilliantly.

Bucky gave him a look, one meant to remind him of all the times both of them had used entrances that were most definitely not the front door.

"Well the window was, I just followed the smell of Thai food," said the blond girl, who was dressed in a black and white outfit with web accents in magenta.

"Ditto," said the dark-skinned boy now sitting on the sill of the open window, unzipping a gray hoodie over a black suit patterned with red spider-web lines.

"Also, we just followed the homing signal on your phone," said a young male voice, this time from the kitchen, happily munching at a plate of noodles, with a mechanical bird...was it a falcon?...sitting on his shoulder.

"No fair!" yelled the blond girl.

"Not my fault you're not smart enough to use the _kitchen_ window," he said smugly.

"What the fuck," Bucky said flatly at this infestation of teenagers, none of whom had come in through a door like civilized people.

Well. Not like he or Steve were all that civilized to begin with. They had more than their share of unorthodox entryways.

“Okay, so the two wall-crawlers are Gwen and Miles,” Kamala introduced them. “Sam should be showing up soon, he’s never late, usually he just appears out of nowhere…”

"Who's the pretty-boy Captain America look-alike?" said the first boy, who was...now sitting ON the wall, okay, so that was a thing. Spider-people were just showing up everywhere, weren't they, there was no fucking escape. At least none of these wanted to punch him.

Apparently this was too much for Bucky, who promptly broke down laughing, and collapsed into the nearest chair, wheezing.

"Pretty-boy! ha! oh man," he muttered mostly to himself, "wow, the irony. He ain’t wrong though, you do have a certain fineness of feature distinct from this place’s Captain America."

Through all this, the teens watched them like they'd lost their minds.

“Kamala, what the hell?” Miles said.

She shrugged. “They’re Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes from another dimension. They’re just waiting until the scientists can get them back, so apparently they’re supposed to hang out in Jersey City until then, or something.”

“I… _was_ Captain America,” Steve admitted. “I’m done with the shield now. Let Stark do what he wants with it.”

Sam looked extremely dubious.

Bucky elbowed Steve. “Your Sam makes that exact same face. Kind of a lot, from what I’ve seen,” he said thoughtfully.

“ ‘Your’ Sam?” the teen questioned. “Do I have a counterpart in your world?”

“Well, he’s less…teenage. Also goes by Falcon. Flies around with jet wings to save this one’s ass,” he said, jerking a thumb at Steve. He thought for a moment. “Well. Saved both of us, really.”

The kid looked momentarily jealous, then schooled his expression. “And where I’m from Director Carter barely even lets me shoot anybody,” he muttered to himself.

Steve chuckled and nudged Bucky. “It’s like you and Sam had a kid.”

Bucky looked extremely alarmed at that prospect. "Yeah, well, if he was in our world he'd have more than enough people to shoot," Bucky muttered.

Kamala made a distinct squealing noise and snapped multiple pictures of his and Sam’s befuddled expressions.

“That gonna end up on Superhero Snapchat?” Gwen asked, chuckling.

Kamala paused. “Nooooo? No. But only because that’s not actually a thing.” She thought a moment. “But it totally should be. Mr. Stark or whoever could totally rig up some secure app or something.”

 

Eventually, everything was devoured and the teens cleared out. Kamala sent the photos she took to Steve’s phone. It hurt, thinking about their friends. What happened to them? They _had_ gotten out, they had to have, they were so close, and Nat would surely be able to get them to safety.

It didn’t help the worry.

He felt just a little better thinking about how Sam would laugh at this odd version of him. Hopefully. Assuming the technology would survive crossing into a different dimension. Eh well, if he had to he’d draw it for them.

 

Steve just sat on the couch, staring at the plain white ceiling for a few minutes, trying to place the odd feeling he had. “It’s…it’s weird. This is the first time that neither of us is on the run. No one’s shooting at us or wants to kill us.”

“Definitely says something about us that it’s such a weird feeling.”

He stilled, just feeling where Bucky was pressed against his side, enjoying the warmth of him.

“I think…this is the first time I’ve been able to just sit down in…since they found and unfroze me,” Steve said wonderingly. “Ever since then, everyone wants Captain America – to have me fight for them, or kill me, or whatever else.”

Bucky thought for a moment. “I know we can’t stay…but I gotta agree, it’s nice not being a wanted fugitive.”

He leaned back, eyes going distant.

"What are we going to do when we get back? Barton's got his family, they'd probably welcome _you_ back after some negotiation - Cap is Cap, whether you've got the shield or not. All I've got is a tenuous grip on my free will and a head full of trigger words. I got lucky. It was two more years than I thought I'd get."

"We'll find a way," Steve promised. "T'Challa said he'd help..."

"Yeah, yeah, said it was the least he could do after chasing me all over Bucharest and right to Ross and Zemo. We'll see. But between the two of you, someone will definitely be able to take me down if it goes wrong."

Steve looked personally offended at the very idea that they wouldn't be successful at giving him back full control of his own mind, then frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe we can ask someone here? You're not the only one in this world that's been brainwashed or mind-controlled. Couldn't hurt to get some ideas."

Bucky sighed. "Tomorrow, then. it has been a ridiculous couple of days. There's only so many impossible things I can handle before dinner. You better call them other Avengers though, I don't think Cap much likes me after I punched him so hard."

Steve snorted. “If he’s anything like me? Never.”

Bucky couldn’t help smiling at that – just a tiny little quirk of the mouth, but enough to signal his fondness. He cautiously nudged his hand with metal fingers. Steve promptly interwove his fingers with his. The smile grew into a real one at the warmth and pressure against the metal.

 

Clint Barton was feeling considerably less fond as he pokes around Hawkeye's belongings. He's well aware his counterpart has a home base out in Brooklyn somewhere, so his rooms in the Avengers building are substantially less lived in.

"I'm not sure I should've let you in after all," Stark laments.

This version of Stark is taller, which is odd, but Clint will joyfully rub it in at every opportunity when he gets back. Assuming their Stark gets his head out of his ass. Not impossible, but look at his track record so far.

"All you did was open the front door. Not your fault your Hawkeye doesn't know how to lock his."

"But it _was_ locked."

"Yeah, and I picked it. I'll be leaving a list of suggested security improvement when I'm done. That was actually a lot of my job at SHIELD, aside from the assassinations. Break into places and pick out their weaknesses. So why's a Stark following me around, anyway? Surely you've got better things to do, like run companies and invent shit. There's like twenty other Avengers that could've escorted me instead. That Spider-guy seems fun."

Stark spluttered briefly then stopped. "Tell you the truth? I'm curious. Your Cap's pretty much the same, maybe a little more hot-headed, and Barnes isn't far off either. But you...you're much more interesting...geez, not the least of which is where you got that death glare, I haven't seen a glower like that since the look on Bucky’s face that time someone ate his pie.”

“A man’s pie is sacred,” Clint said solemnly.

“You seem to be less of an idiot than ours. On some things."

Clint grinned sharply. “I doubt very much he’s nearly as dumb as he seems to be. He’s gotten this far, after all. Got a place in Avengers Tower. There’s all these differences, but for most of these people, there’s too much that’s the same. Tony Stark in our universe is also a genius, he’s still Iron Man. But when you’re only a human up against gods and monsters, you gotta scrape for any advantage you can get. Now, when I’m done, wanna see what I can make out of some scraps from your lab?"

"I truly, truly do."

This Hawkeye's space was much like what he'd set up for himself. Makes sense. While there were many differences, at the very heart of it, there was a common core.

He poked at the uniforms. He was almost disappointed he didn't find the original costume, a thing of purple and blue that Clint vaguely remembered also wearing briefly in the circus. It was probably at a storage unit, if it hadn’t been destroyed.

He didn't touch the locked bow cases, out of respect. He'd snoop around his room, but weapons were sacrosanct.

Finally, he found what he was looking for. He took out a penknife and…

"Seriously?" he couldn't help wondering out loud. "It really is just a shirt. Not even some sort of ultra-thin super-science fabric that would provide even a hint of protection? I wore more than this on my first sniper mission," he muttered grumpily.

They were both best at a distance, but that didn't mean the fight never came to them. And the other guys could always have a sniper.

"Being single is no fucking excuse, I know he has friends."

Stark shrugged. "I've offered, but..."

"He's a stubborn ass. I know. Might help if I tried to beat some sense into him."

Stark thought for a moment. "That...is actually something that hasn't happened yet. Huh. I'll have to check the pool for what the odds are on fighting an alternate dimensional counterpart. I don't think Hawkeye's on that list."

"Unless he's gonna pull some super-soldier abilities outta his ass, he needs a little more armor, honestly. You saw what I came in with. We don't have nearly as much mad science, so between you and me, we can save his ass despite himself."

Stark laughed. "Let's see what I got in the textiles work folder."

Clint made a disgusted noise. "Gawd no, there's no need to invent a completely new element or whatever, or make it outta vibranium. Let's just make something a little more sturdy, Kevlar or a derivative, so maybe he'll have some nasty bruising instead of a bleeding gut wound or something. Hill likes me, I bet SHIELD has something suitable."

"I...am not used to Hawkeye being this sensible. I like it."

"Well...we're not totally different people. He's gotta have some sorta hidden depths somewhere. We both ended up Avengers, after all."

Stark made a thoughtful noise. "Okay, so, let's make some sketches."

"You can fabricate, I'll sneak back in and get rid of...this. Maybe give 'em to Kate, sell 'em on EBay as genuine Hawkeye Avenger uniforms."

"Truly, you are a genius," Stark replied dryly.

"Why thank you. Kate's good, I can see why he picked her. Her crush on me is adorable. It’s entertaining watching her try to come to terms with it.”

"Well come on Hawkdad, tell me all about your parenting of the SHIELD agents..."

 

**_NEW JERSEY_ **

They were in a superhero comic book, Bucky thought, not a romantic movie, so that first tentative handclasp did not unleash an outpouring of affection. Neither of them was the type. Too much war had changed both of them.

But on that first night in New Jersey, they slept in the same bed. Tentative fingertips held onto his wrist, as if to make sure he’d be there to catch him.

It was the best sleep they’d had in at least two years.

 

"So." Steve began the next morning. It was a bright, sunny day, and Steve had forgotten how getting enough sleep for once made nothing seem impossible.

"Since we're here...is there anybody that could help us figure out mind control? You've got aliens, monsters, way more disasters than I'd ever like to encounter...but maybe while we're here..."

Cap chuckled. "I was waiting for you to ask. I'll try checking with Director Hill - SHIELD does employ a few mutants and psychically gifted individuals. If that doesn't pan out, perhaps Professor X may be willing to consult."

"I...me and Bucky, we don't even know if it'll pan out, but we're stuck here, if we can find anything that would help, so that he can never be used like that again...we had to take that chance," Steve rambled.

“You don’t have to convince me,” Cap said with a smile in his voice. “You have to fight for your happiness where you can. It’s all too few and far between for people like us.”

 

As it turned out, none of the SHIELD agents were willing. That was smart of them, Bucky thought. Between him and Steve, there were all too many issues. And these, sure some of them had seen battle, but he wouldn’t wish the blood and horrors in his head on anyone. These X-Men looked to have fought their share of monsters.

And so the next day, Steve and Bucky under took the drive to Westchester, to the ground of Xavier's School for the Gifted.

 

"This is a rather intriguing case. The James Barnes of this world had his memories restored artificially..."

"Yeah, but I'm a different case. I never lost them...they made me forget. With enough time, I was able to start healing and the memories came back. But the trigger words...they're still buried there, they're scarred too deep. Anyone who has them can use me. And I can’t live with that kind of risk.”

"Hmm. Interesting. With your permission, I will undertake a surface reading, and assess your mental landscape, see what may be done."

"Yeah. But...one thing though. Can Steve come? Somehow? Not that I don’t think you could defend yourself in my mind, but...I trust him more."

"Yes, that's doable. Now please, both of you relax, and close your eyes."

Telling two old soldiers to relax would perhaps be an exercise in futility, Steve thought, but he made an effort to let his guard down, focusing on Bucky's presence next to him. His hand crept over to rest on top of his friend's.

He felt another presence, and it was odd. It seemed to sit right next to his mind. "Professor?" he thought at the feeling.

"Indeed." came the calm mental voice.

The suffusing presence withdrew.

"Well. That was interesting," Bucky said, blinking.

"Quite," said the professor. "I'm afraid there's not really anything I can do currently, certainly not without forcing a way into the mindscape."

Steve inhaled sharply.

"It is rather strange, but I could not go any deeper than the outer layer of consciousness. If the mind is an ocean, I am limited to the shallows, there is a barrier to the deeper levels. I can only theorize that is due to your origin in an alternate universe, one more distant, relatively, than any others previously encountered. It would take great effort and cause great damage if I attempted to enter your mind, James."

"Damn," Bucky said in disappointment.

Steve nudged him with a shoulder. "We never could go the easy way, huh."

"I am sympathetic with you predicament. I will offer what advice I can on undoing the conditioning. It will be difficult and take much time, but I find when it comes to Captain Rogers, few things are completely impossible once he's set his mind to it.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. "That's definitely true."

 

It wasn't until they were back at the Jersey City safehouse that Bucky spoke again.

"I feel the same, y'know," he told Steve quietly. "You couldn't go far, but...I felt it. It felt like it was always there."

Steve was entirely befuddled, then his face cleared, and he gave a wistful little smile. "Yeah. Loved you always. And you did too. I...I kinda thought you did, you definitely remembered me, but I could never...just couldn't let myself hope for anything afterwards. If I found you again, it would be more than enough...mph!"

Bucky finally just leaned in, grabbed Steve's sides and pressed a kiss to his lips, just sharing their breath as hesitancy dissolved, leaving them to enjoy being in the same space as each other without it being colored by danger or desperation.

 

Their return was somewhat anticlimactic, for all the crazy they'd endured lately.

Their home universe had been identified. Somehow Dr. Richards was able to open an invisible window into that universe, and the wayward heroes confirmed it. Steve made sure Clint saw it too. He was Hawkeye for a reason, Clint just... _saw_ more. He'd be the first to notice any discrepancies of a similar but still incorrect world. They couldn't take any chances on landing somewhere else, somewhere that might not be as helpful as this world had been. Clint had a family to get back to...and Steve had to face the music.

Having found the place was one thing, but creating another portal was another. But even in this world, it only some more power and applied math to punch through the fabric of the universe. A little calculating, adjusting the cosmic GPS, and they would be rematerialized in Wakanda rather than open ocean.

Steve was surprised to see the group that had gathered to see them off.

"What?" he stammered.

Stark spoke first. "Mission reports to the contrary, it's not every day we get trans-dimensional visitors. It was good having you, Steve. Hope you and your Bucky can catch a break. I hope...I think things will work out. It did between me and Cap. Eventually. But seriously, from what you've said, why the flying fuck anyone would've signed that shit, I don't even know."

Steve huffed out a laugh. "Thanks. That does mean a lot coming from you, Tony. Too bad you can't knock some sense into our Stark."

"Ha! I've got enough messes of my own to sort out, can't go around taking on my alternate selves too."

With a crackle and flash of light, and they were gone.

 

**_EARTH-199999_ **

“Jane! The thing’s getting all wiggly!”

“What?” Jane Foster looked up from her calculations she was tracing into the first draft of her new paper.

“It wasn’t wiggly and now it is!” repeated her lab assistant, Darcy Lewis. “It’s a different sort of wibbly-wobbley look from the time in London.”

Jane abandoned her paper and flitted over to her instruments. “Ohhh, what is _that_ , it’s definitely an indication of a trans-universal wormhole, but this energy signature, I haven’t seen some quite like this before!”

She fussed over the machines furiously, directing Darcy to turn dials and flips switches in an effort to localize the energy signature.

 

Half a world away, a great deal more of energy anomalies were picked up by just about all the instruments in the physic department's at the Wakandan capital's premier university. While the readings from the incident at the raft had been faint, these energy readings were a louder, higher resonance of that signal.

With the same sort of flash as had taken them on the raft, their friend and allies were returned to their home world. Wanda, who had felt their arrival on another level, had guided their friends to their ultimate location.

Clint squinted against the bright sun. "Let's never do that again, okay guys?" He turned to see Steve and Bucky still holding hands. He smiled at the sight until a small body tackled him, making him stagger.

"Wanda!"

"Clint! You are alright!" she said, voice muffled with her face in his chest, holding on tight.

"Pretty much. It was something of an adventure. Not life-threatening for once, but. Interesting, to say the least."

T'Challa let them greet each other. "I am glad to see you all safe. Mr. Barton, as you can see, your compatriots are safe, as is your wife and family."

Clint smiled. "Thank you."

"Now come, you seem none the worse for the wear for whatever journey diverted you, but I must hear of what adventures you had!"

“Have any trouble?” Steve asked softly.

T’Challa just raised an eyebrow, neatly expressing his disbelief that he would have any issues whatsoever, or any problems dealing with them.

He smiled wryly. “Right. I should’ve known.”

A sun-warmed metal hand slipped into his and tugged.

There were more struggles ahead for them, as there always would be, but in this moment, in the gleaming sun, Steve let himself believe he might be happy.


End file.
